Unfused - a Danny Phantom fanfic
by excusemeforamoment
Summary: Sam Manson never really belived in ghosts, and always thought they were only one big hoax. So when her parents move her to live in Amity Park, she begins to realise that maybe they might just exist. It got even more exciting when she found a ghost in her bedroom and met Danny Fenton properly on the bus the next morning. And whats up with the old guy and his ponytail?
1. Chapter 1 - The New Kid

**Unfused**

 ** _a Danny Phantom facfiction_**

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 **A/N:** I know, I know what you're thinking... "why have you started  
a new story when you still have that oneshot series to start and a  
crossover to update?" Well, this plot was cannoning in my brain and I  
I wanted to do it. So deal with it *smirk.*

 **Notes:** \- Ghost-Speak in _German_ in this fanfic. Translations are where I think they are needed.  
\- Updates may be slow because I have horses to ride and Christmas to celebrate! YAY!  
\- Sometimes I'm making Danny wear different kind of outfits! Also his eyes are two diff colours :'] just like mine, yo

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Danny Phantom or any of the characters in this fanfiction!

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 **Chapter One**

 ** _The New Kid_**

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|| _Amity Park, just outside the city_ ||

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 **oOo**

"Amity Park..." Samantha Manson, though she would most likely murder you if you called her that, barely even had time to read the sign that would announce their location, before her mother pressed the engines on their expensive cherry red Ferrari 290 MM into their new homes' city boundries. The tops of buildings sliced into the circle of the blood-red sun, glowing against the gorgeous rays of colour that eventually tapered out into a stunningly clear aqua sky; some orange, some purple, some yellow, all vibrant and alive. There was a light chuckle from the front of the car, and Sam guessed that her parents were studying the areas they passed at speeds you'd think were illegal. Trust them to start laughing at the middle-class places around their newest home - they always held something about somewhere or someone who happened to be poorer then they were. Yes, the Mansons were dirty rich, though Sam never enjoyed acting like they were. She liked to think she was just an average fourteen-year-old girl with average grades and an average life. She'd meet average people and go to an average school and she'd just be _average_. "Muuum," Sam moaned lightly, brushing a strand of glossy raven hair over her shoulder, "when are we gonna get there...?"

"Sammy-kins, be patient. We just have to get through this crummy place and we'll be there," her mother chirped in response, sourly leaning forward in her comfortable pleather seats (Sam would never get in the car if it was real leather, so they got the next best thing). Sam cringed at the nickname and opened her window by a few short fractions.

"Crud," her father hissed in annoyance though the silence, "traffic."

"Agh, when does anything ever go right on car journeys?!" Sam pretended to throw a punch at the window, and her striking violet orbs glared out of the newly polished glass. They were stuck in an adorable neighborhood; cute houses lined the streets, each one looking decently well cared for and nicely made. There was one house that really stood out, though. It was a dusty red brick, with an odd neon sign flashing the word 'Fenton' out of the side and a ginormous metal thing attached to the roof. Sitting back in her seat, Sam frowned. What sort of family would have that on their house? She instantly felt sympathy for any teenagers who lived there, and then sucked in a long breath of cold air that blew from the slightly open window. Basking in the silence and still studying the cringworthy house/steel thingy hybrid in front of her eyes, she sighed deeply. When were they going to move? The sound of rolling wheels alerted her, though she knew that they were not from a car. It sounded more like skateboards or rollerblades then car wheels - the plastic against tarmac was distinct. She could hear unfamiliar voices from outside, voices that sounded young and were ridden with laughter, and she searched discreetly for the owners (shush, it sounded like two people).

"Danny, stop threatening me with the Ecto-Gun!" one voice yelled, and suddenly a figure dashed into view. The boy looked around her age, with dark African American skin and a dull red beret on his head. He wore an ugly mustard yellow shirt, cactus green cargo pants and a pair of strange leather boots that were bound to be real. Something that looked like a PDA was in his hands, and he clutched it like it was his child. There was something else about him that made her smile; usually, black people **(I'M TRYING NOT TO BE RACIST)** had thoughtful brown eyes or stunning hazel eyes, but this teenager... he had blue eyes. They were the basic bluey colour, but they looked striking against his skin colour. He was jogging towards the weird Fenton house slowly, his laughter slipping onto the verge of hysterics and PDA appearing to be filming something just out of her line of vision. Another voice rang down out, this one unfamiliar and not from the African-American.

"I'M GOING TOO FAST TUCKER," the voice shrieked in a panicked tone, and the humming roll of plastic wheels got louder until a shape shot past Mustard-Shirt at speed she thought would be impossible on a skateboard. He held something metallic and gun-like in his hands, and tossed it about as if he'd wielded it all of his life. Suddenly the other boy (the one on the skateboard) shoved a foot onto the ground, and the skateboard skidded to a halt just next to the car stuck in traffic behind their car. She could easily see him now, and she could feel the blood rushing to her pale cheeks. How is it possible that someone her age can be so... _gorgeous_? His hair, sexily tousled, was raven black, possibly darker then her own hair, and the messy shock fell over the corner of his right eye so that he looked incredibly charming but at the same time so adorable you just want to tackle him in a huge bear hug. His eyes were stunning; icy blue, with streaks of silver interwebbing around an intense black pupil. The pale, unblemished skin around his soft-looking, light pink lips were very slightly stretched, symbolising that he laughed and smiled a lot. His build was lanky and slender, the dark maroon 'Hype' shirt hanging slightly around his waist, though at the same time showed off muscled arms and a gawky (though incredibly good-looking) figure. His clothes look good on him; the maroon Hype shirt, black skinny jeans that were skinny but not skintight at the same time, a pair of worn red converse with white laces and dirt lining the heel. He was to die for... _what am I thinking?! I do NOT like him!_

Mustard-Shirt was doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach as if keeping the contents inside, aqua eyes focused on his friend. Danny, as Sam had guessed from what the African-American had called him, waved the metal thing at who she had guessed Tucker was. They were stood outside of the weird Fenton house, with Tucker leaning against the wall and Danny playing with a switch on the gun. Suddenly the raven-haired teenager let out a high-pitched squeal - the gun fired a ray of emerald light at the wall, narrowly missing Tucker and leaving a burn patch on the pavement underneath their feet. "That was a manly scream," Danny commented with a smirk, flicking something on the odd gun and glancing at Tucker. Sam snorted with laughter, but that laughter turned to a gasp of shock when Danny opened the door to the Fenton house and tossed it through the wide gap. Did he live there?! Oh no... poor him.

"Just don't murder me with the ecto-gun," Tucker deadpanned seriously.

"I won't, dorkwad," shot back Danny, a charming lopsided smirk crossing his features. Sam instantly felt that this guy was a bit of a goofball. "Can I push you into the Ghost Zone?" he offered, smile only widening as Tucker hesitated with his response. _What in the world is a ghost zone?_ she thought, furrowing her brow slightly. Suddenly the raven-haired teenager threw his ragged skateboard onto the ground and nonchalantly hopped onto it. His feet hit the exact middle of the board with perfect precision, and the wheels barely even twitched as his weight hit it. Both arms were splayed out and for a moment Sam could have sworn that he was pretending to pavement-surf, before Tucker began speaking once more.

"Only if I can take the Spectre Speeder with me-" the hesitant African-American began, but Danny cut him off almost straight away.

"It broke." Danny appeared to be ignoring Tucker's reaction. "I don't care if humans can't survive in the Ghost Zone." It was obvious that he was joking, judging by his goofily lopsided grin and the fact that his friend laughed at the menacing statement.

"-and I'll bring Cujo out with me."

Danny visibly stiffened. Since they were only about a meter away from the pavement, she could hear and see them quite easily, though they didn't seem to notice her. "Nooo, I'll murder you! With the ecto-gun!" Danny threatened, before slipping into hysterical laughter at Tucker's horrified reaction. "Steady, Tuck. I'm kidding."

"... I knew that..."

"Honey can you close the window?" her mother asked suddenly, making her attention whip towards the front seats of their sleek cherry red car, "I'm kind of cold." Sighing, Sam reluctantly obliged and watched the glass slide up to close the gap - now she could only see the two teenagers shooting inaudible insults and most likely terrible threats.

"The traffic's gone now," her father announced finally, and suddenly their car shot off so fast that Sam's head was thrown back against her seat. There was a laugh emmiting from both parent's mouth, before they engrossed themselves in a conversation. Naturally, Sam eavesdropped.

"Did you see those kids out side of the Fenton's house?" her mother asked self-consciously, her eyes focused on the road ahead with almost terrifying determination.

"Yeah, I'm surprised Jack and Maddie actually allowed them to run around the street with one of their thingy-mabobs they have," her father responded, before briefly glancing back at Sam with a short smile. "Hey, you're gonna be going to school with those two. Don't go near the Fenton's child. I do not like his parents one miniscule fraction, and that means you cannot like their kids either. Just stay with some pretty girls that are popular and rich. You'd be well off with other rich people."

"Why?" Sam questioned curiously, leaning forward in her seat and grabbing her forearm upon instinct. Hey, everyone has habits.

"Why can't you go near the Fenton's kids? Because they are weird. Did you see their house?" her mother retorted, sharply turning a corner. A rather large house shadowed the rising sun from view.

"What do they even do in that thing? Too bad they went downhill since college, eh?" her father sighed.

"Yee," her mother smiled, "look, our new house!"

Sam stared up at it, her jaw slack in her state of shock. "Oh my God..."

 **[A/N: I made up what this house looks like on the outside and inside so enjoy!]**

The building had to be at least four stories tall, with the walls made of sliding that was so white it certainly put pure snow to shame and neat black trimmings lining the broad mahogany doors and large, polished windows. In front of the door was a porch - the wood was a rich cocoa colour, fitted and sandpapered to perfection from the very brief stairwell to the pale grey pillars that held the roof of the fancy foyer up. There was a set of pastel blue sunbeds, set apart from each other with a small oakwood table sat between. Just behind that was a battery-powered minifridge, aparantly not switched on in order to reserve the energy inside of it. If you scaled the front of the house... no, mansion... with just your eyes, you would notice that just outside of the two of the eight windows on the second floor was a small balcony; the wood was the same as the wood on the porch, only there was a fancily-carved railing on the outside and only one pastel blue sunbed against the wall. It was the same on the fourth floor balcony as well as the second floor ones, though there was only one on the singular window. It was most likely an attic. Just above that was the roof - made of perfect slate grey tiles, each set out to fit with each other with such accuracy she was sure this house had been made just for her parents. No doubt it was ginormous, and the size was extended even more with the four tennis courts, huge swimming pool and fancy outdoor gym, as well as many other features she failed to name. There was even a box of exersise balls next to the large shed.

"Do you like it?" her mother inquired, clambering out of the car and opening Sam's car door once she had parked in the large driveway.

"It's... amazing!" Sam exclaimed excitedly, "gotta go, I'm gonna go ahead and unpack in my bedroom... if I ever find it, that is... Bye now!" She whipped round to the boot of their car and heaved her luggage out, fending off buzzing butlers as she lugged it through the now open door. Barely even taking in the stunning rooms around her, she searched for a staircase (she found it in the centre of the main room, and boy it was impressive with the red carpet on it and all) and raced up towards the door that happened to be labelled 'Samantha's room' with a large golden plaque. She'd have to fix that with a sharpie later on. Her room was actually pretty nice. Obviously her parents had taken the time to realise that she wouldn't take anything girly or any pinky colours, therefore colouring her room in hues that she quite enjoyed. The walls? Black, with a dark purple hemming and matching door on the inside. The carpet? Your average creamy white, though she didn't mind. On the black ceilings were stars; constellations painted on for her to stare at throughout the night. The bed? Kingsized and centered within her large room, with silken black duvet covers and plush purple pillows. She looked forward to flipping them over to get the cold side (who doesn't do that?!). Glancing towards the window, she was surprised to find that her second-floor room was not one of the ones with a balcony, but with a gorgeously gothic window seat instead. There was a large dresser right beside that, most likely empty. As well as all of that luxury, there was a door leading to a small private bathroom off to the right, and looking at that meant she suddenly realised that on the right bedside table there was a popcorn machine, mechanical with some sort of microwave feature-like door and button thingy on it.

"Wow," she remarked, "they pulled through."

Suddenly the the popcorn machine burst to life, the door opening and closing with an accompained 'beep' constantly. "What the?" she frowned, anxious to touch it. Why was her popcorn machine... haunted? "I can hear you, god dammit!" she barked at it, pushing away her paranoidness and heading off to unplug it from the wall socket. Just then the beeping stopped, and it shook slightly with... green energy?... before the entire thing jolted and shuddered to a halt completely.

"Do you always talk to your popcorn machines?" a voice asked, though when Sam looked around with a shocked gasp, she located no one nearby.

"Wha... who's there?!" she snarled into the air, more fearful then she was letting on.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt ya. I'm just looking for the Box Ghost. He ran off here when I was patrolling." Suddenly someone matierialized right in front of her, beside the popcorn machine, with a smug smirk on his face. Sam could feel her breath whisked away. He looked around her age, with sexily tousled *white* hair and unearthly green eyes that glowed so brightly she could feel herself very much mesmerized. His skin, tanned lightly and stretched very slightly around the mouth from smiling a lot, was perfectly unblemished but had a slight tint to it that beamed that 'charming but not perfect boy look'. Fitted around his slender build was a black jumpsuit, with a white collar, belt, boots and gloves. And... was he floating? AND GLOWING?!

"What... what are you?" she asked, fear etched into her features. Whoever this wasm he had to be evil in some way or another

"Oh, so you've never heard of me. I'm Phantom, ghostly hero of Amity Park and offical fend-offerer (that's obviously a word) of any ghosts with evil intentions," he introduced with another beaming smile, this one more sympathetic then friendly. "Yee... it's a lot to take in, isn't it? Look, I have two things to say to you: I'm not evil, and my name isn't Inviso-Bill." He suddenly gasped, and his entire body shuddered violently with shivers. For a moment, Sam thought he was gonna attack her, only he shook his head, waved goodbye meekly, morphed his legs into a snakey tail and went through her wall into the outside world. Wait. Did he go through her wall? Well, he did say he was a ghost, and it makes sense that ghosts can go through things and float. She briefly wondered whether she should be afraid, and found she wasn't. In fact, she wasn't scared of him anymore - who cares if a ghost is haunting her bedroom, right? Wait, he didn't haunt her bedroom, did he?

At least, she hoped not.

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|| _Amity Park, The Bus Stop_ ||

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 **oOo**

"My first day of school. Brilliant." Sam let loose a long, muffled sigh; her intense violet orbs stared up at the approaching yellow school bus, her mind briefly stretching to a thought of _how orignal. A yellow school bus_. The screech of rubber against tarmac alerted her senses, and the bus shuddered sharply to a halt in front of her. The bus driver slammed his fist onto a button, and the doors shook slightly before creaking open so loudly that she was sure she'd die if they were to get on. Groaning inwardly, she stepped up on the small flight of stairs and her eyes searched desperately for a seat where she could sit by herself, ignoring the odd sounds from the closing bus door - alas, she was out of luck. The only seat she could trust herself to sit in was beside a girl with perfect skin, emerald eyes and the smug smirk of a huge jerkwad. _Yay_ , she thought, before plopping into the chair. There was a slight rumble from the engine, and the bus driver allowed the bus to lurch forward before opening the doors once more. A voice echoed out from the street, one she was sure she had heard before. Footsteps drummed against tarmac, and Sam shot a glance towards the door (all the while ignoring the judgmental glares she was recieving from Mrs. Perfect beside her).

"Danny you dork! Stop running! I'm tired!"

"Tuck, the bus is there! We need to reach-"

"Don't you dare sing that song! Your parents played that thirty-seven times from upstairs REALLY loudly when we were exploring the lab!"

"-reach for the staarrrs..."

"DANNY! It'll get stuck in my heeaaad..."

"Fine, only because I have it in my head too and I'll feel sorry if it happens to you."

"Thank you, ya jerk."

"Dorkwad."

"Inviso-Bill."  
 _What?_ Sam cocked an eyebrow. _What kinda insult is that?_

 _Wait._

 _Hold on.  
_

 _Wasn't that what Danny Phantom told me not to call him?_

"That was an evil reference, Techno-Geek."

"I know."

"I hate you."

"I hate you too."

"Get your fat butt onto that bus, dork."

Two suddenly familiar figures charged onto the bus in an unelegant clutter, and she was so shocked at who it was she accidently elbowed the girl beside her. "Hey!" a voice, rather too prissy for Sam's soul enjoyment, shrieked into her ear, and a pair of sharp emerald eyes stared into her own violet ones. "Get away from me! Go sit with those two dorks already, you worthless abnormality!" She gestured towards Danny and Tucker, who were horsing around at the front of the bus and tripping over each others feet as they tried to scramble for the back of the bus. Her voice was judgemental and unforgiving, the dead glare she was casting towards Sam certainly not disproving the fact that her personality was most likely the same. It was obvious that the fellow teenager was Hispanic now - her flawless, tanned skin colour and perfect features were obviously the victims of far too much ugly makeup, and her dark waterfalls of smooth chocolate brown hair was most likely a poor casualty of an overly-expensive straightener. This girl was vain, sadistic, spoilt, insensitive and self-centered in Sam's not-so-humble opinion, and she had only known her for five long minutes. Exactly the kind of girl that her dad wanted her to hang out with... how about _no_. Sure, Sam was filthy rich, but there was no way she would ever act like this towards other people. It was almost inhumane.

"I'm not going to sit next to two boys I don't even know," she responded with a hint of strong sassiness, partly lying since she already knew their names. They were the teenagers she had seen outside of the weird house the day before that, while they had been stuck in traffic. Today, the Danny guy was dressed in a simpler outfit from yesterday; a white shirt with a faded red oval on the chest, hugging against his build loose enough to look natural and nonchalant but tight enough to show off his lanky build. His jeans, light coloured and denim, were skinny but not skintight and he wore the exact same pair of scuffed red converse as he did yesterday. Tucker looked exactly the same, high tech PDA and all.

"Ugh, fine. Just sit somewhere else, freak!" the girl shrieked, edging away from Sam, who felt extremely self-conscious right about now.

"Paulina, stop being a prissy little bitch and maybe try to find out more about her. For starters, she's got a stinkin' hot car," a friendly voice nonchalantly remarked, making Sam look up from her lap. Danny was stood just next to her, smiling at who was now identifyed as Paulina, with Tucker sprawled out on the seat behind him as if he were saving the two open spots. Furrowing her brow, Sam straightened up and looked into Danny's eyes; though she had to tear the gaze away once more, as she could feel her face heating up when he even looked in her direction. _STOP BEING A FANGIRL, MANSON. HE'S NOT EVEN THAT GREAT._

"How do you know what my car looks like?" Sam asked intelligently, her eyebrow raising. It seemed like all memories from yesterday had vanished the moment she had looked into his eyes properly. Now she was closer, she suddenly realised that his right eye was coloured a striking, unearthly green(and that he literally smelt like heaven); not icy blue like she had first thought. Wow, multicoloured eyes. That made him even more interesting then he already was.

"Because I nearly smacked into it on a skateboard. I didn't want to ruin it, or scare you with my ugly face-" _apparantly it's opposite day_ "-so I crashed into the crappy blue Ford Fiesta behind you instead." Flopping into the seat behind him and accidently crushing Tucker's foot, he grinned lopsidedly at her.

"Danny, you're on my foot," Tucker snapped, swatting at Danny. The raven-haired teen nonchalantly dodged and raised off the seat to allow Tucker to snake his foot away.

"You deserve it, with that evil reference you did outside," he shot back with a familiar smile, kind of like the one that Phantom had beamed at her yesterday.

"Jerk."

"Dorkwad."

"Idiot."

"Hi, I'm Daniel Fenton, please call me Danny and do _not_ call me Dan in any shape or form," Danny suddenly stuck her hand out towards Sam, who looked up into Danny's multicoloured eyes anxiously. The introduction was rather sudden, but Sam honestly didn't mind it one tiny bit. It was kind of adorable. From behind him, Tucker was gaping.

"Uh. I'm Samantha Manson, but you can call me Sam... my parents always call me Samantha and it's really frustrating," Sam responded, reluctantly shaking his hand. Contentedly, Danny smiled again and flopped back against his seat, throwing a glance at Tucker (who had resorted to playing on his trustworthy PDA).

"Ooh, you moved into that huge house just near here, didn't you?" he asked curiously, "lucky you. I live in a house with an Ops Centre on the roof."

Sam quirked an eyebrow, biting her lip. Ops Centre?

Realising her dismay, Danny continued. "My parents are ghost hunters. They keep the ghosts that are too big for the lab in the Ops Centre-"

"Not that they actually catch anything," Tucker cut in, not even looking up from his glowing screen.

"True," Danny chuckled, "but it's hell living with them."

"Why?" Sam questioned, sitting up in her seat. From behind her, Paulina was shuffling closer to the window awkwardly.

"Pretty much every time they cook, something goes wrong. Not your run-of-the-mill burning it wrong, very wrong." Danny laughed, looking at Tucker as he did the same.

"They bring the food to life _every_ time. Danny and his sister Jazz have to cook dinner for themselves to avoid getting smacked with a turkey or attacked by a potato," Tucker offered, and Danny's face flushed in embarrasment.

"I hate my family sometimes," he groaned, and his multicoloured eyes flashed in their sockets, "but the lab is fun. Their ghost hunting equipment is the bomb."

"Sure it is," Sam commeneted, feeling like they were lying to her. What kind of parents had stuff like that?

Obviously, Danny picked up on the sarcasm and laughed. "You think I'm lying," he deadpanned, "ahah, I'm not."

"Seriously, their house is wacko," Tucker remarked, making Danny snort.

"That's one way to say it, I guess..."

 **A/N: I thought you guys would like some diologe without tons of detail ;]**

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|| _Amity Park, Vlad Master's Mansion_ ||

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Danny Phantom's glowing figure flashed over the crackling screen, his face pulled into an expression of pure determination and his spectral tail leaving a discreet trail of floating faded ectoplasm. Hands alight with a powerful pink ecto-blast to keep the room alight, Vlad Masters suddenly spoke out to the machine in a demanding yet placid tone. "Stop. Analyse," he told the screen monotouniously, mightnight blue orbs flashing in their sockets as he studied what his computer was showing him. A segment of Danny Phantom's DNA, the human cells infused with large traces of glowering green ectoplasm, beamed onto the brightly glowing screen; Vlad smirked, and reached out a single finger to touch the screen. Upon feeling the electrical warmth against his skin, he placed a finger lightly over a human section of the singular DNA strand and dragged it away. Suddenly the screen flickered, and the DNA strand shuddered violently before collapsing away from the screen and dying completely. "Yesss," he hissed, a plan whirring though his brain. he flicked a switch beside him, and the lights shivered to life, the ugly yellow colour bathing the room.

"If... if I somehow take his human DNA out of him then... he'd die _completely,_ as a full ghost...

and it'll be painful too...

interesting..."

And with that, Vlad Masters turned away from his computer screen and let a sinful smile stretch his features.

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|| _Amity Park, Casper High School_ ||

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 **oOo**

Ahhh, Mr Fenton. Glad you have finally decided to show up to class," Mr. Lancer's tone was smug and catlike, with sarcasm practically dripping off each word. Looking up from her paper, Sam furrowed her brow. She swore that Danny had been on the bus with her... so why was he so late to get to class? What could he have possibly been doing that made him half an hour late to class? Carefully, Sam studied him. His hair was still tousled in a charming manner, but was slicked to his forhead slightly with a thin sheet of sweat. One hand was clutching his hip painfully, and was that a stain of... blood underneath it? She could feel her breath hitch in the back of her throat, and glanced towards Tucker, who was urging him over with the universal motion for 'come here' with frantic aqua eyes. There was something off about the way Danny walked - limping slightly but doing a good job of attempting to hide it - but he appeared to be completely ignored his possibly fatal injury and brightly trotted up to sit on the other side off Tucker.

"Dude, you're bleeding," Tucker informed the raven-haired teenager with a heavily concerned tone, "who was it this time?" Frowning in confusion, Sam looked back at her paper and wrote another heartless sentence onto it. What did he mean, 'who was it this time'? Was he attacked? Is that why he ditched them earlier on? Why did her head hurt so much? Smacking her forehead onto the solid table surface, Sam eavesdropped in complete habit. She didn't even mean to this time, even if she did in the car journey here.

"Skulker," Danny quietly mumbled as a quick response. his voice ridden with snickers, "sucked that blob right into the thermos." An amused snigger rumbled through Tucker, as if the sentence Danny had just uttered was completely average. Well, his parents _do_ bring food to life... it totally makes sense to 'suck' a blob into a simple, everyday thermos, right? Well, at least it probably was in their whacko household. An Ops Centre on the roof, a lab in the basement and whacko ghost hunter parents were only three aspects that Danny had described on the bus journey. Once the (orginial) yellow bus had jolted to a stop next to the school, Danny had raced out first and hadn't been seen by anyone before he had come into class.

"What did he do to you?" Tucker asked worredly, suddenly lugging his bag onto his lap and pulling out what appeared to be a simple water bottle, filled to the brink with something that was glowing a dim ectoplasmic green but grew brighter every time it went near Danny. "Do you need some of... this?" _What IS that?_

"Uh... I'll tell you tonight. And yea I think I'll need some, but we'll do that in the lab tonight. C'mon, we can't talk about it here." Danny waved him off with a goofy grin, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still clutching onto his hip. From the corner of her eye, Sam noticed that, while the shirt was still a little bloodstained, the bleeding had stopped almost completely. Didn't he have it bad when he first came into class only five minutes ago?

Sam had a nagging feeling that Daniel James Fenton was hiding something...

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 **A/N:** my god. Might be the longest chappie I've ever done. ;D

 **Please note that I will only post the next chapter at 3+ reviews!**

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 **PLEASE REVIEW, FOLLOW AND FAVOURITE!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Battles to be Won

**Unfused**

 **a** _ **Danny Phantom Fanfiction**_

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 **A/N:** So I'm really into angsty fics and originally this was going to be one  
but I think it's turning out to be fluff more then angst, but oh well. I'll work  
it out. Also I have a DP/BH6 plot line on my phone that I REALLY LIKE but I don't want to  
start another fic ahjfbdsjhfbhjdfb WHAT SHOULD I DO.

 **Disclaimer:** Naw. I don't own it. :]

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 _Reviews keep me motivated._

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 **Chapter Two**

 _ **Battles to be Won**  
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|| _Amity Park, The Fenton Household_ ||

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 **oOo**

"Dude, you don't look too good." Tucker stared worredly into Danny's equally perturbed kaleidoscopic eyes, his hands tremoring ever so slightly as they grasped the worn plastic bottle. The contents of said bottle glowed an otherworldly, ectoplasmic green, only smoldering to be even more luminous when it was put into Danny's own trembling hands. Glancing to the left of him, the intelligent African-American clumsily fumbled for a newly cleaned syringe and looked up into his best friend's apprehensive multicoloured eyes; the two contrasting colours were charged with such fierce determination that Tucker nearly allowed his breath to hitch in the back of his throat. There was something different about him today. Something... something so relentless that he was sure he'd get attacked if he even turned away. But no, Danny stayed placidly in his seat, only fretfully eyeing the needle grasped between two of Tucker's gentle fingers with a hint of worry in his polychromatic orbs and shaky breaths escaping his lungs.

"You'd think I'd be aware of that," Danny shot back, his voice sharpened yet strangely clement. There was something definately off about him - maybe it was just the injury that Tucker had just been about to heal, using the ectoplasm-filled bottle that was currently in Danny's shivering hands. Perhaps it was the very thought of him having to have the illuminous glowing matter _injected_ into his bloodstream - judging by his horrific reactions, the process of the ectoplasm soaking into each DNA strand in his body was extremely traumatic for him. It even caused tears to well up in Tucker's eyes, since it was so uncomfortable for him to have to just sit and watch as the only person who had ever accepted him for who he wanted to be lay screaming and writhing while strapped to a chair to keep him from hurting himself out of the pain. But it was completely necessary when he got any fatal wounds; and Skulker had happened to lash him so deeply that he just was unable to heal himself, and with all of the ectoplasmic blod loss his predicament would have been even worse. Therefore, Danny _had_ to have the ectoplasm in him in order to heal... even if it caused him a whole lot of pain.

"You look like you've been dragged through a hedge twice," Tucker added with a small smile, "...although, you could-"

"-just phase out of it," Danny finished, returning his friend's grin with his own shaken one.

"Danny, are you sure you need this?" Tucker questioned, placing a caring hand on his friend's shoulder with the intention of steadying his uneasiness. The ghost boy flinched away from his gentle touch, and stared into his aqua orbs with his own striking multicoloured ones. Without uttering a single word, Danny nodded. He proceeded to push himself into transforming, his tousled raven hair inverted in its colour to unveil as a stark-white mop and his icy blue eye fading into the unearthly green of his other eye. There was a change in his clothes, the white shirt and jeans becoming a worn black HAZMAT suit. On the hip, there was still a large rip in the material; blood-infused ectoplasm dribbled out of the jaggerdy wound like a dripping tap. A tense silence tore through the atmosphere in the customary lab around them, only filled up by the gentle whirr of the Fenton Ghost Portal and the sound of Tucker taking the plastic bottle from Danny's hands. He worked quickly, spilling about 12 mililitres of the glowing ectoplasmic substance into the syringe. This was something that the African-American knew he wouldn't enjoy. Just the process of him filling the injecting equipment made Tucker realise that Danny was terrified. Last time he had done this, he had been in so much pain he was coughing up ecto-blood before he had been rendered in an uncomfortable state of unconsciousness for nearly half a week. It was difficult explaining it to his parents, but they were extremely oblivious to their white lies.

"I can handle it," Danny deadpanned, green eyes darkening in their strikingly muddled colour.

"I- I just h-hate seeing you in so much pain," Tucker stuttered in his words, and a lump formed in his throat.

"Tuck..." Danny whispered, "just do it. I've done it three times already." His voice was determined, fearless. But it didn't comfort Tucker in any way, shape or form. He was still anxious to do it. Looking up into Danny's striking emerald eyes, he gently fastened the ghost-proof restraints on the chair and took out a pair of scissors from his pocket. There was a brief hesitation, before he proceeded to cut the suit open on the underside of his right elbow. It wasn't possible to put a rub on him to ease the pain as the needle went in - it was dangerous for his skin. Last time they tried, the area was red and painful until his ghost half had gotten enough ectoplasmic energy to heal himself. Steadily, Tucker rested the needle against the crook of his elbow and pressed the tip in lightly. Tucker questioned whether Danny was ready with a reassuring smile. Upon seeing Danny nod, he pushed the needle into his vein all the way and emptied the glowing green contents of it into his bloodstream. Immediately, he backed away from his best friend's shuddering form. The lights bottomed out, and Danny was silent for a full minute before it started properly. A blood-curdling scream of agony rang through the room and Danny's back was arched, his ghostly glow crackling at an almost scilliating scale. Then there was a brief, very brief, silence, and Tucker felt that the quiet was more agonising then his screams. Sweat bathed his forehead as the ectoplasm searched and infused into each DNA strand of his body, and once again pain spiked through his nerves.

"Boy, am I glad that no one else is home," Tucker muttered to himself, turning away to close up the Fenton Ghost Portal. If a ghost were to cross dimensions now, then that would be bad - Danny was still writhing in the chair, screaming and pulling at the restraints as he tried to escape from the torture. Then he coughed violently, the physically abusive bodily function making his entire structure shudder. Tucker was nervous to mentally note that there was ecto-blood on his knee. This was the worst part; it was him coughing up the blood and ectoplasm that had escaped from his veins in the process of the injection, and while it was crucial stage it was painful to watch. Another cough racked his body, and this time he flopped backwards into the seat and let out a long moan of agony. _Please say it's over,_ Tucker willed mentally, feeling helpless as Danny rabidly tore at the strong ghost-proof restraints. The screams were emotive and left Tucker feeling helpless and empty. It was painful to see his friend in so much agony like this, even if it was crucial for his energy levels. There was another haunting silence, then another groan of pain. "Dude?" the African-American watched intently from a couple of meters away as his best friend's head slumped over his chest. It was obvious the boy was unconsious; his breaths were quick and ragged, with a small trail of ecto-blood pooling out of the corner of his soft-looking lips.

"Thank God," he breathed in relief. It was over - at least for now it was. Rushing forward, Tucker undid the restraints on his wrists and smiled a little as his friend stirred. It wasn't as bad as last time; he didn't appear to be comatose, just unconscious. But when the shivering techno-geek touched him to lift him up bridal-style, he found that Danny was so cold that even his unconscious form sent goodbumps shooting up his arms upon contact. _Ghosts **do** make you shiver_ he thought with a smug smirk, pushing his arms into the crook of his legs and around his waist. As he hauled him up from the chair, Tucker was surprised to find out just how lightweight his best friend was. _Geez, he's like a feather._ He dared another glance towards the closed Ghost Portal before walking back upstairs, all the while mumbling to a traumatized teenage superhero.

* * *

 **oOo**

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|| _Amity Park, The Manson Household_ ||

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. . .

 **oOo**

" _I - I just h-hate seeing you in so much pain..."_

 _"... I've done it three times..."_

 _"... are you ready...?"_

Screaming.

That was all Samantha Manson could hear in her haunting dream. There were no images; only sounds, voices that appeared so far away yet so brutally recognisable. It was like a nightmare. A sudden depiction of _something_ that seemed so familiar but so different at the same time, or was it a someone? The screams were far too blood-curdling to be able to tell. Blood, washing over the image like a powerful waterfall, glowing green trails mixed within the strange crimson mixture. There was no bright colours, no happy faces or chatty voices - only _pain_. Nothing affected her. She could feel nothing physically that could be anywhere near as torturous as what the unidentified being her brain was experiencing. But mentally, it was different. The urge to reach out and free whoever this mysterious person was nearly overwhelming, and she would have done just that if it weren't just a bloody nightmare. More screams, more green and red, more _agony_. But then it all stopped. Her entire brain went black. Sam willed herself to wake up, but then something stopped her. Another voice, whispery, as if it were more so a thought then a sentence said aloud.

" _If... if I somehow take his human DNA out of him... then he'd die **completely** , as a full ghost..._"

A buzzing pink fist. More images, this one of a strand of something collapsing and a man. He seemed normal; grey hair pulled into a ponytail, kind midnight eyes... Then his picture flashed too, and suddenly his skin was pale, eyes red, hair black and pointed into two demon-like horns... A flickering yellow light. Then a laugh. It was... _merciless_.

"BEEP BEEP BEEP."

Sam grumpily looked up from her pillow, wincing slightly at the small drool puddle left on the purple Egyptian silk. There was a flashing green light beside her, and she groggily diverted her violet orbs onto it, absent-mindly reaching out to slam the small device with a clenched fist. _6:31 am_. "It's like, the middle of the night," she groaned lightly, throwing her raven bedcovers off her legs and swinging said limbs off the side of her kingsized bed. Soft golden light streamed ceremoniously through her drawn curtains, yet she didn't feel like opening them. The glow would most likely leave her hissing like a melting (do vampires melt?) vampire, and scrambling across the floor to get away from it. No, her eyes couldn't take the burden of seeing anything gleeful today. Maybe Danny Fenton could make an exception. Yes - Danny Fenton's smile could brighten anyone's day. Danny Fenton's laugh could be the insperation of any beautiful song. Searching through her drawers was a drag. It took her a while, but she eventually found it; a black shirt, with a silvery white skull on it's torso and a discreet 'Hype' logo just near the bottom of it. As well as this, she chose a black plaid skirt and a pair of violet leggings. Her combat boots would complete this outfit, but they were still discarded downstairs after she had stomped in yesterday evening, in a _terrible_ mood as she usually was in the evenings.

Trudging downstairs, Sam barely even noticed her butler offering her a steaming cup of warm tea and simply dismissed it away when he shoved it into her face. A hair brush was wielded in one hand, and she absently pulled it through her long, tangled locks of silky raven hair until she could run her fingers through it without them snagging on any knots. Sighing at her reflection in the large mirror above her fireplace, Sam eventually found the kitchen. Her mother was sat at the table reading Amity Park's morning newspaper, her father beside her eating a full plate of soft golden pancakes. The cooks were buzzing around the ovens, flipping pancakes and cracking eggs into a frying pan. "Mornin' mum, mornin' dad," Sam greeted half-heartedly, flopping into a comfortable mahogany seat. A tall bearded man, dressed in a clean cooks outfit and beaming a huge smile at her, set down a plate of steaming pancakes in front of her, and she took the time to briefly thank him before reluctantly chewing on one.

"Oh, good morning Sammykins!" her mother glanced up from her paper, and offered her a wide grin. Reluctant to return the cheeriness, she continued eating, her violet eyes absent-mindedly reading the front page of the newspaper. ' _Phantom - Hero or Hazard?_ ' She mentally snorted at the picture included in the main article, while moving onto her second pancake. It was a fuzzy photogragh of the being she had seen in her bedroom only two days ago, his gloved hands outstretched and alight with ectoplasmic energy. Directly in front of his wide blasting range was a strange RV, one familiar to her. She had seen it charging through the streets at a reckless speed, chasing after blurrs of black and green, nearly every day since she had been here. Standing outside of it were two figures; both clad in HAZMAT suits, familiar ecto-guns threatening the floating Phantom and faces pushed into expressions of sheer despiteful determination. She wasn't really sure whether that Phantom guy was a hero or a hazard. Sure, he had informed her rather nonchalantly that he was a hero and spent his days fending off rival ghosts, but ghosts were strange creatures. They had no humane emotions, only evil intentions according to the ghost hunters, known as the Fentons'... wait, isn't Danny's last name Fenton?

"Sammykins, it's nearly seven. Go get your schoolbag ready," her father ordered gently, a kindly smile on his face. Sighing, Sam silently stood up and grabbed her schoolbag from the butler standing at the door, discarding her plate of pancakes. _What time does the bus come?_ she asked herself, checking briefly she had her pencil case, planner and everything else she'd need for the new school day. Upon remembering it pulled up at quarter to eight, and that it took her a long time to walk to the bus stop, she quickly raced upstairs to brush her teeth and apply her gothic black and purple makeup. _Crap,_ she hissed mentally as she stubbed her toe, the pinky becoming a casualty of her panic. For a moment she couldn't feel her entire foot, and she now understood why her mother had beem limping when she hit her foot fingers **(I DIDN'T WANT TO SAY TOES AGAIN)** on the wall earlier.

* * *

 **oOo**

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|| _Amity Park, the bus stop_ ||

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 **oOo**

Sam shivered in the numbing cold of the outdoor world, wrapping her thick winter coat further around her flat torso with a wince. A deadening spurt of growing pain had blossomed into her right leg, and she leaned on the left as a poor attempt to cut the feeling short, but to no avail. The sun was higher in the sky now, with the once dazzling colours of vibrant reds, oranges and pinks now gradually tapering into a pale aqua sky. It was her least favourite time of day; when it was mind-numbingly cold, but she found it gorgeous all the same. There was no one else at the bus stop, and Sam really wished Danny and Tucker would be on time to catch the bus today. Despite them being of the male gender, Sam found they were very good friends. They would always wait outside of her classroom if they didn't share the same lesson before lunch period, and they had a routine between them whenever you were required to go as pairs without any squabbling - the order would go Danny and Tucker, then Sam and Danny, then Tucker and Sam. They joked around lightly, and Sam always found it heavily amusing when they were on one of those insult arguments (throwing petty insults at eachother until they were defeated). Then her mind drifted to Phantom. The ghost-boy was incredible - he shared the sarcastic sence of humor as Danny, and his emerald eyes... she could get lost in the unearthly colour. They kind of looked like Danny's one green eye - she rather enjoyed his mismatched eye colour. They were incredible. Just then, two familiar voices echoed up the street. She glanced towards the sound, and smiled as soon as she realised who it was. _Speak of the devil... think, rather._

"I SWEAR TO _CLOCKWORK_ , DANNY - I WILL PUSH YOU INTO THE _GHOST ZONE_ WITH THE _SPECTOR DEFLECTOR_ AROUND YOUR WAIST IF YOU DON'T LET ME _CATCH UP TO_ _YOU_ , YOU _RETARDED LITTLE RATFINK_!" Tucker was yelling, sprinting down the lane with an exhausted expression. He looked just the same, except for his coffee-coloured skin being coated in thin sheet of sweat and his aqua eyes more murderous then ever. The customary red beree was tipping to the size, revealing tufts of soft raven hair. Just ahead of him was Danny, his black hair whipping in the breeze and his mouth open in laughter. He wore something different to yesterday - a pair of black skinnies **(A/N: Let me just say this. Then I say skinnies or skinny jeans, ect, it means *SKINNY, BUT NOT SKINTIGHT*)** , and while she was unable to see his full shirt she was sure she could see the tip of something dark maroon coming out of the bottom of his clean black hoodie. But then she noticed something else, something on his head. A beanie. He was wearing a beanie, black with the 'Hype' across the side (gee, Hype is a good brand. Stop judging). It covered up the back of his head, with his toused bangs still hanging over his blue eye. Sam could feel her breath being taken away from her at the sight of him. Under his navy converse shoes was a skateboard, rolling down the pavement at supernatural speeds with a rider of supernatural balance.

"CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, TECHNO-GEEK!" Danny screamed in return, his voice ridden with that damn angelic laughter of his. His stunning multicoloured eyes were set dead ahead, not even flickering towards Sam in the slightest. Sliding across the pavement just beside her, Danny let the wheels skid against the tarmac before pulling to an awkward but adorable halt. "Morgen Sam, bitte verstecken mich von Tucker, er ist unheimlich," **(remember ghost speak I mentioned in chap 1?)** he suddenly blurted out, eyes alight with excitement and hands hooked around his skateboard. Cocking an eyebrow, Sam asked him to repeat in English, blaunching at the new language. "Oh, es tut uns leid... uhm, morg- I mean, morning Sam, please hide me from Tucker, he's scary." His voice was sheepish, and a goofy grin was on his face. Heavy breaths were heard, and Sam glanced to the left to see Tucker drawing up beside Danny with a muderous expression.

"You and your bloody skateboard," the exhausted African-American teenager hissed jonkingly.

"Sie und Ihre blutige Gespenst bedingten Bedrohungen," Danny responded smartly, much to Sam's dismay. What language was he speaking? Did Tucker even know what he said? Judging by the fact that Tucker was only laughing, she had that dreadful feeling that he did. Danny had never mentioned this new language before, or spoken it until now...

"I don't use them all the time, dude!" Tucker chuckled, doubling over in his fits of laughter.

"Weil du mich mit einem Geist-Portal und einem Gürtel, die im Grunde zu töten werde Phantom bedroht," Danny shot back, drawing a hand anxiously through his toused raven bangs. The beanie shifted, and Danny pulled it back into place without a second thought.

"You have no idea what he said, do you?" deadpanned Tucker towards Sam, his small smile knowing along with Danny's own lopsided one.

"What language is that?" Sam gawked, staring at Danny in a shocked state of mind.

"Uhm..." Danny visibly stiffened, and Sam suddenly suspiscious at his hesitant tone, "... German...?"

"... uh, okayyy then," Sam drawled, "do you know German then?"

"Ja," responded a smug Danny with a light-hearted grin, and his mismatched eyes sparkled at her puzzled expression. "It means yes," he informed her, and Tucker snickered behind a shaking hand. Obviously, he was cold, but Danny wasn't even flinching... and he was only wearing a thin black hoodie! Sam opened her mouth to respond, only to get cut off by Danny. "Look, the bus is here," he remarked, rushing to stand beside Sam as the original yellow bus sauntered slowly down the road, the wheels jagging against the tarmac and jerking the bus up and down every bump it drove over. _No shit,_ she growled mentally, flagging the compact motorcoach down with a waving hand. The painful screech of the wheel rubber against tarmac made Sam visibly flinch, and the sudden reaction caused Danny to instantly errupt into piles of hysterical laughter. "That was perfect," he commented, straddling his skateboard onto his hip and clambering through the gradually open doors of the bus. Tucker followed him, and Sam hesitated before she clawed her way on after them.

"Bist du in Ordnung, nachdem gestern?" Tucker asked in non-translateable speed, leaving Sam shocked that Danny could actually understand what he had said.

"Mir geht es gut," Danny responded shortly. There was a brief silence between the two teenagers, before Danny hesitantly spoke up again. "My parents went whacko at me yesterday," he remarked, chuckling slightly. Looking up at their curious expressions, Danny continued to describe his story. "Basically, my mum and dad put some sort of weird gun thing they made on the table, and as both of them were dealing with the living bowl of popcorn in the microwave I kinda accidently shot a hole in the wall and then they literally shouted until I was trying to find a way out of the situation. It was wonk."

"Wonk?" Tucker questioned, an eyebrow raised in confusuon.

"Yee," Danny grinned lopsidedly at both of them, "y'know, messed up. Bent."

"Kinda like you?" Sam teased playfully.

"HEY. I am _not_ bent. I'm straight as a straw."

"A bendy straw," Tucker retorted with a low snort of amusement. Scoffing, Danny turned to glare at him through darkened yet goofy mismatched eyes.

"Sooo Danny, tell me more stuff about your family. They sound interesting," Sam smiled at the raven-haired teenager lightly, leaning forward contently in her seat. There was a hesitant pause, before Danny returned the grin. Sam was happier about this bus journey; she knew Tucker and Danny would always be there to talk to her, and this time Paulina had the sense to sit beside Dash instead of an empty seat. There was no one sat behind her (she didn't sit at the window seat, because she wanted to be closer to Danny) and her male friends were sat in the chairs opposite her own. The rest of the students in the bus were quiet enough, save a couple of unimportant conversations between Star, Paulina, Kwan, Dash and the rest of the A-Lister students.

"Well," Danny cracked his knuckles together as if about to take part in a battle of a lifetime, "you already know that Jazz and I have to cook for ourselves since our parents always bring the food to life, with some sort of ectoplasmic energy that is stuck in our microwave - Tucker can't make popcorn without it attacking him and when it growls at him he screams like a little girl. Their job is ghost hunters, we have a portal to a different dimension in our basement, blah blah blah..." From behind Danny, Tucker was sporting the darkest death-glare he could muster up, which wasn't really menacing.

"Hold on," Sam stopped him, eyes wide in dismay, "you have a portal to a different dimension in your basement?!"

"Würden Sie sagen, dass es sicher ist, ihr zu sagen, wo es führt?" Danny suddenly asked Tucker, who seemed to understand him with ease.

"Ich würde sagen, es ist sicher genug. Es ist nicht wie sie ist eine Geister," Tucker responded, glancing to Sam with a flirty smirk.

"Wahr," Danny shrugged, before turning back to Sam, "The Ghost Zone is an alternate form of reality, home to all the ghosts, and made entirely of ectoplasm. The very fabric of the Ghost Zone co-exists with the physical world; their mutual and dual existences is interlinked; they are the proverbial 'flip-side-of-the-coin' to each other." It was as if he had reapeated the same explanation so many times, that was how smoothly he had stated it all. Blinking, Sam leaned forward.

"So that's where the por- hold on, ghosts? I saw one in my bedroom the other day." Sam looked at the two with a raised eyebrow, and she noticed that Tucker was staring at Danny with a knowing smirk on his tanned features.

"Oooh, who was it?" curiously, Danny diverted his striking multicoloured gaze to Sam's own violet ones, his lopsided grin still evident on his face.

"I think he told me his name was Phantom."

Tucker was giggling behind his PDA. "Sie ging in ihr Zimmer?!" he snorted in 'German'.

"Shut up Tuck," Danny snarled playfully, then looking back to Sam, "well, he's Amity's hero. Don't be scared of him, and don't call him Inviso-Bill under any circumstances."

"Why?"

"Because he's called Phantom, and the name Inviso-Bill is actually suckish as hell," Tucker cut in rather rudely, still chortling like an idiot. The bus jerked sharply to a halt and nearly every passanger fell of their seats to avoid face-planting into the head rest in front of them.

Sam suspisciously eyed Danny down before standing up to leave the bus.

 **A/N: I've decided that the bus ride will be the time for them to all have the non-descriptive bantz every chapter their at school. :'] If you don't like it, just say so. If I get over 8 people saying they'd prefer this part not to exist, I'll skip the bus rides completely. Please review and say what you like about this part!**

* * *

 **oOo**

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|| _Amity Park, Casper High School_ ||

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.

. . .

 **oOo**

Danny was acting... _strange_.

It wasn't like his everyday annoying but interestingly charming strange, it was like the kind of strange you were when you were hiding something larger then most petty secrets. He was always talking to Tucker in German, a language she did not understand whatsoever, behind her back and they either shared laughs or stared at each other in complete worry. But, while watching him discreetly in different classes, she noticed that every so often his breath would cloud out in front of him and his entire figure would suddenly errupt into a cascade of violent shivers. Instantly he would mouth something at Tucker, who would nod in understanding, before asking if he could go to the bathroom. And for the rest of the period, he wouldn't return. Although she was curious about his strange behaviour, Sam was far too bashful to ask about it and decided just stalking around would do for her. She looked up across the Art classroom, blocking out the teacher's continuous rambling and instead searched for Danny with confused violet eyes. For a moment she couldn't find him, until she followed the sound of his charming angelic laughter. There he was, sitting in his chair, pointing at Tucker's art book and the paint splattered messily over it. Unfortunately, she wasn't seated with her two best friends in her art classes, if she could call them her best friends. She listened to their conversation for a while, a smile on her face. When they were together, they were highly amusing.

"Tuck, you literally just whacked me with your paintbrush and it went all over your damn book!"

"Really, I had no clue. Lookie, you have paint on yours too."

"Oh... crap."  
Sam just about snorted at Danny's steady realisation.

"Jazz called me earli-"

"Did she propose to you?"

"Naww. She told me the ghost portal was all jazzed up."

"AHAHA, do you know what you just said? You said that Jazz said that the portal was all _jazzed_ up."

"You're such a dork, Danny-boi."

"You sound like my dad."

"You sound like a dork."

"Pfft, says the damn techno-geek."

"Says the guy with a freaking _ghost portal_ in his basement and knows exactly how to use each of his parent's inventions."

"Not the Jack-o-tails. Still no idea how to use them."

"Your dad'll teach ya."

"Tr-" Danny suddenly gasped, and his breath fogged up in front of him with a light blue tint. _Ooh,_ Sam mused silently, pretending to continue working on her art project all the while watching to see what Danny would do. He whipped his hand up and called for the teacher's attention, his face twisted into a desperate expression and his hand waving frantically. Upon receiving her awareness, he questioned whether he could go to the bathroom, and once he was given permission he shot up from his chair so fast that Tucker actually flinched away from the movement. Soon enough he was off down the corridors at a rapid run. _Boy, he really needed the toilet,_ Sam thought silently, her eyes still set on where he had once sat.

* * *

 **oOo**

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|| _Amity Park, somewhere on campus_ ||

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.

. . .

 **oOo**

"Who is it this time?" Danny grumbled, far too irked at the suddenly somber weather in Amity's thundery grey skies. If he were honest, he was really looking forward to a simple ghost engagment in the numbing cold and gorgeous colours - of course, he wasn't given that prospect, so he was forced to battle it out in the existent heavy spurts of icy downpour. The rain soaked his ivory hair, causing his tousled bangs to stick to his forehead and frustrating him from the annoying dampness. The thought of going intangible completely bypassed his numbed brain, the ghostly teenage superhero only focused on finding whatever ghost had alerted his senses. Glancing around with glowing ectoplasmic green orbs, Danny hovered a couple of feet into the air, his slinky spectral tail rippling underneath his slender build and glowing a dimmed white. It seemed as if no ghostly entitiy was around; in fact, no one was, save a couple of anxious seniors bypassing from class to class. He briefly debated whether he should just return to his previous class, when suddenly a glowing pink fist slammed directly into the pit of his stomach, launching him into the nearest wall. A hoarse gasp hitched in the back of his sry throat, though no sound came out. The attack had been so sudden that he had forgotten to push his frame into intangibility, and his back blossomed into spurts of stabbing pain as it collided heavily with the solid bricks. There was a quick moment of disorintation, when his eyesight was invaded by inviting black spots and every sound seemed to be dimmed and far away from his fatal position beside Casper High School's walls. Blinking, Danny let out a low groan of pain and glanced up from his clumsy stance - there was someone stood in front of him, widely grinning and floating a few feet above the damp emerald grass. The black spots drew backwards into Clockwork-knows-where and he was finally able to send signals to his groggy nerves, commanding his body to stand up onto shaky legs. He stared at the figure... some who he had least expected it to be.

"Oh, Daniel. When will you ever learn?" a catlike purr sliced into his aching skull, and Danny's head jerked towards him once more. Gloved fists alight with a glowing blast of dangerous ectoplasmic energy, Danny floated up to hover around the other specter's level. A wide, toothy smirk was on his familiar face, and his smug crimson eyes were narrowed into self-congratulary slits. His raven hair deemed more demonic then usual - _maybe he used extra gel_ , Danny thought with a mental smirk. The ghost stood - sorry, floating - in front of him just had to be that one seriously crazed-up fruitloop; Vlad Plasimus himself. As a human, Vlad had his white-grey hair tyed into a tight ponytail, as the result of being infused with ecto-acne, and a matching goatee on his pointed chin. However, he had black, bushy eyebrows and a pointed nose like a beak. With his midnight blue eyes heavily outlined in black, he really did radiate an evil nature. Typically, he wears a black suit with a red handkerchief in his left breast pocket and a matching red bolo tie. The suit has three rows of white buttons, a total of six. He also wears a white undershirt and black pointed shoes. In his alter-ego of Vlad Plasmius, he retains little resemblance to his human form, although some features remain the same. Plasmius is more vampiric than Vlad. He is more muscular in this form, has sky blue skin, and pointed fangs. His hair is black and pointed in a U-shape and he has a black goatee. He wears a mostly white outfit consisting of white trousers and a white long-sleeved shirt covered in black gloves. His shirt is connected via a black belt and stems up to his neck. There is a black collar on his shirt like Danny's, although it doesn't extend up the neck. He wears black boots. Finally, he accessorizes with a high collar cape connected around his neck that is white in the back and red in the front. **(A/N: all of that text belongs to the DP wiki.)** He was truly... fruitloopy.

" _Plasimus_ ," Danny let loose a feral snarl, squaring up to the older halfa with his sharp ectoplasmic green eyes darkened with fury, "was machst du hier?" **("What are you doing here?")** With a low chuckle, Plasimus adopted an attacking stance and hovered closer to Danny, who flinched under his cold stare.

"Ich bin hier, um meine Mission, Daniel abzuschließen. Bringen Sie nach unten, nehmen Sie Ihre Mutter und töten, dein Vater," **("I am here to complete my mission, Daniel. Bring you down, take your mother and kill your father.")** Vlad hissed in response, his own eyes darkening. With an angry growl, Danny morphed his legs into a slinky spectral tail and shot towards Plasimus with breakneck speed, his fists in front of him and ectoplasmic energy building up.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY!" he screamed as he approached, suddenly drawing his right fist backwards. The emerald viality suddenly cannoned off his clenched fists and towards Vlad's stomach, though the older halfa dodged it with ease. Danny was caught off-guard by the impressive elude, and Vlad took up this perfect chance to land his own blow. The glowing pink fist pummelled into the side of the teenager's head and he collapsed to the ground, half-lidded in his semiconscious state. He looked up through snowy white bangs, only to find a fist at his throat, the glove buzzing with dangerous energy. The teenager stiffened and groggily stared up into Vlad Plasimus's smug grin and glowing red eyes, shifting uncomfortably under his cold, dead glare. "P-Plasimus, you know what the deal is," he sniffed with a fearless voice, "you come, I come, you fail. Let me get back to my art class - I was busy." At this, Vlad threw his head back and let out a heartless chortle.

"Doing what exactly, Daniel?" the older halfa purred darkly, letting the pink ectoplasmic blast on his fist die down to nothing more then a faded salmon whisp. "What could possibly be of more importance then your own downfall?" Clicking his tongue thoughtfully, Danny placed a hand underneath himself and levered his light body weight onto that one gangly limb, raising himself off the ground so slowly that Plasimus barely even noticed the slight movement. There was a brief silence, before Vlad began to laugh once more. Danny quirked one eyebrow and chuckled nervously with him, his blurred vision only slightly clearing up. The nagging ache in his head was pounding against his brain and it made it very hard to think straight, though this never stopped Danny before now. Despite his awkward situation, the younger halfa could already think of many combo moves he could throw on Vlad and even a few fruitloop-related nicknames; ahh, those were his favourite ones. A few examples were 'rainbow drops' and 'cereal donuts'.

"Umm, I was learning?" he began, then snorted out loud at his own answer, "that's a lie. I was arguing with Tucker, actually. So if you'd let me go so I can go and continue splattering paint on his book, that'll be fantabulous. Wait. I mean fantastic. I was thinking of the word fantastic and fabulous at the same time. Huh, where my brain could go, eh?" Danny could see his rambling was really ticking the older halfa off, so he continued rather happily all the while aware of the students buzzing around the window behind him excitedly. "Is fantabulous a word? Like, the Fantabulous Four? Is that a thing? Probably not. Isn't it the Fantastic Four? I'm pretty sure it is. I haven't watched the movies bu-"

"SHUT UP!" Vlad let out a feral snarl, and hooked one bony hand tightly around his throat and drew his face closer to Danny's own. The younger halfa let out a choked gasp as his he began charging up a dangerous pink ectoplasmic blast in that paticular hand, burning the skin underneath his finger tips. The heavy wheeze was replaced by a strangled scream and Danny finally had enough; he picked up a glowing green fist and slammed it so hard into Vlad's stomach that he was launched backwards into the strong base of a tree. Standing up, the teenage superhero flexed his fingers and raised himself off the ground by a few feet, hovering over Vlad's shocked form resting against the damp emerald grass. " _Daniel_ , don't you see? With my experience and your incredible power, we could _rule the world_ together." The older halfa clambered from the floor, offering Danny a wide smile and opening his arms in a welcoming manner.

Danny snorted, and threw his head back in complete hysterics. "J-join you? You're funny, for a seriously crazed up fruitloop." The young hybrid let out a low snigger, and he continued blabbering after realising that Vlad was getting seriously pissed off at his pointless rambling. " _Thursdayyy waitin' for lovee_... that's a song. Are you waiting for love, Vladdy? Vladdypants. New nickname. I got bored of cereal donuts. Vladderina. Vladette. Vladderinooo. I like that one. Hey, imagine saying banana with every other vowel. Bununu. Binini. Benene. Bonono. Personally, I like bununu."

"Stop your blabbering, boy!"

"Stop your shouting, fruitloop."

"SHUT UP!" Seemingly nerved by Danny's quick and witty comeback, Vlad quickly shot his hands out in front of him and fired a dangerous pink ecto-blast at his enemy. Danny was quicker though, putting up a green ecto-shield just before it could deal a dangerous blow to his chest. The teen disactivated the protection and glanced to Vlad with cheeky green eyes.

"Or what, Vladdy?"

"I have a plan, Daniel. A _painful_ one."

And with that, Vlad disappeared in a puff of cloudy pink smoke.

* * *

 **Uhsjkdnijasndk**

 **IK IT'S BAD.**

 **SORRY.**

 **REVIEWS KEEP ME GOING**


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